


tearing you apart

by stray_dog_sick



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Hiatus, M/M, Nightmares, Phone Calls & Telephones, kinda ybc inspired, patrick dies but only in a dream so its okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 02:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11773281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stray_dog_sick/pseuds/stray_dog_sick
Summary: Something's always on fire.





	tearing you apart

**Author's Note:**

> peru story: after machu picchu we got to stay at a "luxury hostel" (it was not. we were not impressed.)
> 
> title from 'my songs know what you did in the dark' by fall out boy

“There’s fire. Something’s always on fire. Or someone, depending on the night. I’m so sick of fire.”

“Why do you always dream about fire?”

“What are you, my therapist? I don’t know, Patrick. I just do.”

\-----

The smell of smoke is so strong it almost makes him sick. But there’s something else underneath it, and by now he’s learnt what burning flesh smells like. It’s not something he ever thought he’d recognise. These nights are always the worst.

\-----

“Why are you telling me this, Joe?”

They haven’t spoken in three months. They haven’t seen each other in two years.

“I had a nightmare about you, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

\-----

Of course, it’s Patrick. Why does he always end up on fire? How does this keep happening?

Crows are braving the heat, pecking at the blond man’s hand. God, he wishes they’d stop. His bandmate needs both hands. Not that a dead man needs any hands, but it’s the thought that counts.

\-----

“Well, I’m not on fire, I promise. Do the others know about this too?”

“No, you’re the only one.”

The only one who knows. The only one he dreams about.

“Why not Pete? He gets nightmares too, he’d be able to help.”

“Because it isn’t about Pete. It’s about you, Patrick.”

\-----

It always happens at the same time, too. He finally works up the courage to tell Patrick how he feels, and then he walks into whatever room the man was in last to see this exact scene.

The fire spreads. It makes its way up his trousers, sparks land in his hair. He can’t feel it.

\-----

“Why’s it about me, though? I don’t get it, Joe. You have these dreams all the time, why am I the one you’re bothered about the most?”

He’s not on fire, he promises.

“Because you’re the only one I love.”

\-----

And then he wakes up because you can’t die in a dream. He hasn’t died before.

His phone is in his hand before he even knows what he’s doing, Patrick’s number on the screen.

\-----

“Jesus Christ, Joe. Okay. Meet me for coffee tomorrow, that’s probably something we should talk about.”

If he’d had more than a few hours of sleep this week, he might be able to interpret Patrick’s tone.

“Tomorrow. Sure, I can do that. See you soon.”

“Goodnight, Joe.”

Dial tone. He puts the phone down. His knuckles ache from gripping it so hard.

He gets up to make a fresh pot of coffee. He won’t sleep again tonight.


End file.
